PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m scared ya’ll

Because this poetry shit makes me feel crazy

Maybe you can feel me

Or maybe you’ve found peace in your gift

You can accept the mumbo jumbo in your mind

Maybe your people can accept

And appreciate you speaking almost prophetically

And philosophically

Maybe you’re cool with the way that you verbalize in- syll a bles

And you take those great



PAUSES



and then you

Break

Up

Your

Sentences



As for me

It’s like I hear voices

Hallucinate

How many people do you know-

Besides poets

That can see rainbows and hearts fluttering by like butterflies

And how many people do you know

Besides poets

That can grow roses right from the concrete- with no damn water

Just words

Just

Broken

Up

Words

Why is it that I can’t think thoughts in a normal way?

How come

When I look at my best friend

I think, what a queen! How strong yet how weak she has become!

Why can’t I look at her and say

Wow! Her hair looks nice. Or- I like her shirt!

And when I see a man who is oh so beautiful I say shit like he is oh so beautiful

Why can’t I say some normal hormonal shit like-

Daaaaaaamn!



Poetry is my weakness people

All day when I should be doing daily things

I’m thinking poetically

When I’m shopping for fruit

I’m making poems about fruit

When I’m eating my fruit

I’m making poems about eating my fruit

*My heart is like a peach

So ripe and tender

And you have picked it

Fresh from the tree

Your bite kills me*

Why can’t I just eat the shit?

(sigh)

I just wanna be normal ya’ll

Because this poetry shit is killing me

Every man I meet becomes an object of inspiration

And I soften their rough edges

By involving them in my search for love

I can go and on about a man that I met yesterday

As if I had known him

For a lifetime

Emotions become colorful

And vibes pulsate through me

And words that don’t make sense

Do

When I speak- I’m not like the average person

Ya know- spit doesn’t come out my mouth

It’s more like molten lava

Hot

And it burns

And when it cools down

It’s like rocks

Hard hitting

BOOOW

But my words aren’t always harsh

They’re like cotton

Fresh picked and so soft

They float like feathers in the wind

Delicate and shhhhh

Quiet

I guess being a poetic princess

Isn’t

That

Bad

It’s simply a fear

That this poetry shit just might swallow me whole

That it might be bigger than me

That it might take me somewhere

That I’m

Just too scared to go